


THE LAST WILL BE FIRST

by TheInsaneRobin



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Alien Biology, Alien Invasion, Aliens, Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Anxiety Disorder, Depression, Dominion War, Female Characters, Female-Centric, Freedom Fighters, Gen, Gender Identity, Jem'Hadar - Freeform, Outer Space, Restraints, Science Fiction, Science Fiction & Fantasy, Star Trek References, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-13
Updated: 2017-06-13
Packaged: 2018-11-13 16:31:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11189016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheInsaneRobin/pseuds/TheInsaneRobin
Summary: “An alien from the Gamma Quadrant will only talk to Julian Bashir, but how does she know him when he's never met her before?“This work takes place towards the end Star Trek: Deep Space Nine season four.It references several different episodes but in a way where you only need a general understanding of the characters.You can listen to a fully produced audio version here: http://www.thenerdparty.com/punchit/the-last-will-be-first





	THE LAST WILL BE FIRST

 

Prologue

Last. That would be her name. Not one that she was given. Not a rank that was bestowed upon her. A name of her choosing. For too long she was referred to as GH-1512. For too long she was bolted to the floor. Too long she was conditioned for combat but never released. They feared her, and she knew that. She could see it in their eyes and practically smell it on their breath – the type of fear that permeated the air around her when they loomed over her like the gods they swore to protect. Gods. Deep inside, programmed even, that’s what she was told to believe they were. They made her, and now they abandoned her. Who do you worship when God has rejected you?

She heard something: an alarm that she had never heard before. It pierced through her daily silence bouncing and echoing off the walls. Through the darkness, she could hear the guards move away from the door. She felt the footfalls through the floor thumping at a rushed pace. For years this was the only sound she would hear; that and the sliding of her dinner plate under the door. Occasionally, when they opened the door to inspect her, she could peer through the opening and see color. She always remembered the days when she saw a new color. Suddenly, the door bulged with a loud bang behind it. Another convex shape appeared with an even louder pang of metal. The door opened with such fury pieces bolted off and struck her skin. It didn’t leave a mark. Violence never did. Once her eyes adjusted to the light, she looked up to an empty threshold.  A shimmer of light manifested itself like vapor and she thought she was delirious. Could it be the lack of food? Could it be the foreign commotion playing tricks on her? The shimmer turned into a figure standing in the doorway. This was no delusion. This was her moment.

**Medical officer’s log:** _Chief O’Brien has just finished his tenth session of counseling after his simulated experience of 20 years in an Argrathi jail cell. It’s become routine for us to play a game of darts afterward. Sometimes I feel like he might reveal more to me than his counselor._

 

The smell of Quark’s was always something to get used to for Dr. Julian Bashir. The rich and pungent aroma of alcoholic drinks from dozens of cultures, all mixed together, could sometimes make his head spin. It wasn’t just the way the little fingers of tangy intergalactic brews would sneak their way into his nostrils, but the sound hitting him as well. Quark’s Bar was an assault on the senses. Between people screaming, “Dabo!”, in avarice exaltation every three minutes and the constant dropping of glasses, it was hard for the doctor to hear himself think.  But that wasn’t the point of Quark’s. That’s why he preferred the Replimat with Garak. It was quieter and more dignified than the constant flow of rabble that went to the bar. You could still see the movement of the station from that vantage point though. At times, Deep Space Nine seemed to have its own breathing patterns – people from all over the quadrant were allowed into its tiny world and were then exhaled back out to whatever adventure awaited them.  All types of sentients came to DS9, but it seemed only a certain type made their way to Quark’s.  Quark’s had a corner on the Holosuite market, but for right now the only thing that mattered was the dartboard.

            The dartboard is where Chief O’Brien let his guard down. Maybe it was because his mind could focus on a task while he spoke instead of constantly analyzing his false memories.  A hopeless person would have ended his life after what he went through. Thankfully, the good doctor was able to intervene before that happened. Ever since that moment they shared together, a renewed sense of dedication surged through their friendship. A sense of obligation and responsibility came with it, as well.

            Bashir was the first to break the silence by the end of their second game, “Care for another?”

            “I should really get back to work,” Chief O’Brien said as he looked at the board and then out the door.

            “I don’t know about you, but I feel like another game,” Julian exclaimed as he was already walking back to the board and plucking the darts out of their resting place. He pulled them one by one as he hit his words, “You can’t leave after beating me twice. Give me a chance to reclaim my honor!”

            “Honor? You take this too seriously, Julian,” O’Brien scoffed with a smile. The chief walked back behind the designated line, and Julian handed over the darts. O’Brien was mid-throw when Bashir once again broke the silence.

            “How was your session today?” he asked with no form of pretense. Chief O’Brien hesitated a little and missed the mark completely.

            “Do you see what you made me do? I knew you couldn’t go one single game without bringing that up. Sometimes, I just want to play darts. Is that okay? I just got done with an hour of talking. Nothing but talking. Sometimes I feel like that’s all I do now,” O’Brien breathed in quickly to release a sigh, but something changed his mind halfway through the action. His breath seemed to stay inside instead of billowing out with his discomfort and exasperation with the young doctor.

            “It’s OK. We don’t have to talk. We can just play darts. Like we always do.”

            “Thank you. I appreciate that,” O’Brien over-enunciated his consonants as he lined up his next shot.

            “What do you mean you ‘feel like that’s all I do now’?” Bashir asked, puzzled. Chief O’Brien caught himself before the release of his next dart to turn and look at Julian.

            “All I do is talk now. I talk to you. I talk to the counselor. I talk to Keiko. I give oral reports to the captain so he can check up on me. I just want to do my job. I feel like I can’t because I’m too busy talking!  The only person who lets me do my job and not talk is … Odo,” O’Brien paused to think of a prime example of someone who leaves him alone before he named the head of security.

            “I bet a conversation with him about this would feel a hell of a lot longer than one with me,” Julian joked but then turned more serious, “20 years is a long time to deal with the trauma of isolation.”

            “It wasn’t 20 years, remember? It was 20 minutes,” Miles’s lips slowly curled as he faked what could resemble a smile.

            “It doesn’t matter how long it actually was. What matters is your perception of the event and how it impacted you,” Julian exclaimed as if he has said this dozens of times.

Julian’s combadge chirped with the voice of Captain Sisko. Before he swung his arm to his heart he took a look at Miles.

            “Please, let’s not keep _two_ people from working due to conversation,” Miles pled as he threw the next dart.

Julian tapped his combadge and replied, “Bashir here.”

“Doctor, there is a situation that needs your attention in Ops,” the captain informed with his rich, pear-shaped tones. The captain always had a calming tone to his voice no matter what the subject was. Except when he didn’t.

“Is somebody hurt?”

“Not yet.”

 

Because no one was hurt, Bashir didn’t bring his medical kit. He rested his hands firmly on the railing in the turbolift, gripping tighter than probably was necessary. The doctor always had apprehension when he came to Ops when there wasn’t a medical emergency. Why would you need a doctor in Operation Control if you didn’t need medical expertise? He always automatically assumed he was in some sort of trouble: a habit he formed in primary school that he never seemed to be able to shake. Nervous about what was waiting for him when the lift rose to the top floor, all that apprehension melted away when he saw those blue eyes.  Eyes to match the uniform and spots that stood out on their own. Jadzia Dax looked up at him and winked. This gesture alone would have been enough to disarm him a few years ago. Today was different. Today he saw a large Klingon just behind her who looked up at him at the same time but did not wink. Ever since Commander Worf came onto the station, Dax’s attention had been elsewhere. If the doctor was honest with himself, her attention was always divided and never truly focused on him. She did, however, love the attention that he gave her. She always made sure never to outright tell him “yes” but she paid even closer attention to how she never truly said “no”.  Right as Julian realized he was pondering this a bit too long, Captain Benjamin Sisko stepped in between Dax and the good doctor before he could say a word.

“At 1800 hours, sensors detected activity in the wormhole and a ship emerged. It’s a ship that we’ve never seen before, but we have determined it to be Dominion in origin,” Sisko reported as he tapped a few controls to reveal the ship on the main viewer. The ship was a one-man fighter with a slim extended cabin and flared pink engines. It had two nacelles, one resting on top and one underneath instead of on the sides like most Federation starships. They were mounted on a long cylindrical hull that seemed to have the ability to spin the nacelles while the pilot would remain stationary.  “The pilot has sent us a message stating that he would only speak with you.”

“Me?” Julian asked confused.

“You. By name. Do you have any idea what this could be about?”

“No, I’ve never seen that ship before in my life. What do we do now?”

“We talk to him and find out why he’s here,” Sisko looked at Lieutenant Dax, “open hailing frequencies.”

“Open.”

“This is Captain Benjamin Sisko, commander of this station. We have Dr. Julian Bashir as requested. I would greatly appreciate it if you would show yourself and state your business.” As soon as the captain finished his thought, a grey face replaced the ship on the main viewer. Once again, Julian found himself affixed upon a striking set of eyes. Except this pair was a deep violet instead of Jadzia’s royal blue. She had reptilian features with segmented skin that reminded Julian of a parched desert that had never seen rain. Small horns aligned around her jaw and crown. The alien had twin nodules in the center of her forehead that almost looked like a purple jewel. Ornamentation? Or was this a natural occurrence for her species? It finally donned on him. This was a Jem’Hadar. Julian tried to remove the notion from his mind because they were told female Jem’Hadar didn’t exist. Of course, this wouldn’t be the first time the enemy had lied to them. However, the ubiquitous tube delivering ketracel-white to the body was nowhere to be found. Perhaps the females of their species received it in another area besides the neck?

“Dr. Julian Bashir?” the alien asked with a surprisingly soft tone.

“Uh, yes. That’s me. I’m sorry; you have me at a disadvantage. Have we met before?” the doctor quipped with more overt charm than he originally intended. He could practically feel Dax’s eyes roll behind him.

“No, we haven’t. But you have met the one called Goran’Agar.”

Julian’s memory raced with the mention of that name. Just a matter of months before, Chief O’Brien and he crash-landed on a planet where a Jem’Hadar soldier was free of the ketracel-white addiction implanted by their creators to maintain loyalty. He had a group of deserters he was trying to help free from the addiction. The leader, named Goran’Agar, conscripted Julian to find a cure from the white for his men based on his own physiology. It turned out Goran’Agar was a genetic anomaly, and it couldn’t be applied to his men. Although, Julian wasn’t even able to try because Miles destroyed his research forcing Julian to abandon his work and flee. Julian and Miles escaped and the last they saw of Goran’Agar he was shimmering off into the jungle to eliminate his men and relieve them of their withdrawal symptoms.

“I need your help. I have information that can be useful to you. War is coming.”

 

Sickbay was where Julian thrived. Not just as a doctor but as a leader. He graduated second in his class and was able to get a prime position considering how young he was. He wanted to practice “frontier medicine”. Deep Space Nine was the center of commerce and scientific exploration due to the wormhole to the Gamma Quadrant. This led to unique experiences that allowed him to be published and honored several times before he even turned 30. In the four years he was chief medical officer, he was able to distinguish himself above most others in his field and especially among others his age.

The captain, as well as Chief of Security Odo, was in the room. The young, as-yet-to-be-identified female Jem’Hadar, was being examined by one of his nurses in a neighboring section. The man’s hand was shaking as he waved the tricorder over her rough, shale-colored skin. Not many have stood this close to a Jem’Hadar warrior and lived. Thankfully, three of Odo’s deputies were guarding the entryways. The captain and she came to an agreement that she could come aboard after a medical review to determine if she was a biological threat of any kind.

“What do we know?” Captain Sisko inquired as he peered into the other room.

“Not much at this point, Captain. There is an epidermal layer so resilient that we can’t gain a blood sample, and it’s making our scans come back with inconclusive results,” Julian huffed. “After some adjustments, I was able to determine that she . . .”

“She? So she is indeed female? I thought that wasn’t possible,” Odo interrupted. The Chief of Security’s smooth face always showed dissatisfaction. He had a matching voice that was so gruff that if he didn’t finish a sentence with “harrumph,” you would think something was wrong. Odo had a special connection with the Jem’Hadar. It was his own people, known in the Gamma Quadrant as the shapeshifting “Founders”, who engineered the race of super soldiers. Along with an addiction to ketracel-white, the Founders built in a disposition toward loyalty that resembled a religious fanatic. The Jem’Hadar literally referred to them as “gods” and died for them as such. Odo had no previous connection with his people before a year ago, and once he found out that they ruled the Dominion and engineered a race of assassins, he wanted nothing to do with them.

“Yes, Odo, she is female. At least as far as we can tell from a biological standpoint. Along with that, she has a muscle density I’ve never seen before in a humanoid. She’s stronger than a human, a Vulcan, and even one of her male Jem’Hadar counterparts,” Julian exclaimed. The doctor marveled at the level of biological- and genetic-engineering genius it would take to produce a specimen of this nature. Genetic engineering was something with which he had experience. Since genetic engineering was outlawed in the Federation, he couldn’t share that experience with anyone. It would definitely help him decipher more about her, but for now, he had to keep certain things to himself.  “There is one anomaly with her DNA I have yet to be able to identify,” Julian admitted.

“Such as?” the captain inquired. Just as Sisko asked, there was a loud yell that echoed through the room followed by a piercing crash of equipment. Julian jerked his head violently to see what happened, and all he could gather was that the nurse’s nerves got the best of him. The female Jem’Hadar screamed again and pushed the nurse off of her, and he was sent flying to the other side of the room. His body slammed into a console so hard that he didn’t fall down to the floor; he broke through halfway and sat crouched and hunched over several meters off the ground. Sparks flew with an all too familiar sizzle of a console exploding. It briefly illuminated the already bright room to an alarming degree. The three deputies covered their eyes instead of drawing their weapons at their own peril. Julian, Odo, and the captain were able to peer through the smoke and sparks just long enough to witness the female Jem’Hadar rise up from the table. At what first seemed like a trick played on the eyes because of the explosion was soon confirmed because it happened two more times. The officers witnessed her body blur and then dissolve onto the floor. It was as if she evaporated like spun sugar in water. As soon as she dematerialized, she rose back up in the same manner but in a different location. She was behind one of the deputies as she took both her hands and slammed them simultaneously on his ears. The concussion of force and air made him blackout immediately. She moved to the next security officer with the same adept skill but this time in front of him. She grabbed his weapon out of his holster, snapped it in two, spun around, and struck him in the face with the broken pieces of his own phaser. With the momentum gained from her spin, she jumped in the general direction of the last remaining deputy. Though only a matter of seconds went by during this whole exchange from beginning to end, he was able to pull out his phaser from his holster. Through stinging eyes and sweaty palms, he was able to get a shot off. The beam never made contact with her. Instead, it hit the wall that was just behind her leaving a black scorch mark in her absence. She phased just in time to avoid a phaser beam to the chest. The deputy heard a scream behind him. A high-pitched, yet guttural scream that sounded like it came from deep inside her. He knew he didn’t stand a chance but he turned around anyway. She kicked herself off the wall behind him and elevated herself high enough to wrap her legs around his neck, causing a slight gagging sound from the security officer. She then rotated herself to use her own body weight forcing him to plummet to the ground. In one swift motion, she rolled without ever stopping and was coming for the senior officers.

“Activate force fields!” Captain Sisko screamed aggressively, and the computer obeyed so quickly that it seemed to be obliging out of fear. The slight blue shimmer of the force field twinkled with a confirming sound of an electric charge. There was now an invisible barrier between the three senior officers and the female Jem’Hadar. She rose up from the ground and lost all her momentum as she slammed into the field. A blue static crackled in the areas she touched. “Enough!” the captain bellowed.

In one last act of defiance, she screamed and pushed both hands into the force field. With slow determination and an unrelenting scream, she was able to push her arms through the field. The field seemed to bend to her will leaving two gaping holes in the field where her hands once were. The entire field destabilized, and she just stood there. Odo moved forward and pushed the captain and doctor behind him in an almost paternal manner.

“This isn’t what . . .” she could only get three words out before Odo struck her chin with a type of blow the two other officers had never seen before. His changeling arm morphed into something more solid than flesh and bone. He forced so much of himself into making a fist as dense as possible that he almost couldn’t contain the rest of his shape. Odo wasn’t that talented of a shapeshifter, but he could do what needed to be done in order to subdue her. The female Jem’Hadar spun so hard that her back was to the officers before she fell to the ground. The thud was grisly and definite. She was not getting back up.

“That must have been the DNA anomaly I couldn’t figure out,” Julian indicated cheekily.

 

Last’s eyes opened, and for a brief moment, she forgot where she was. In her mind she was back in her cell bolted to the floor, wondering when she was going to eat again and if she was ever going to see a new color. But instead of the dark, she was in the light. This couldn’t be her cell, but as she looked around it was a cell regardless. She looked up and saw a man sitting there. It was Julian, the man she was looking for in the first place. He was sitting in a chair in the middle of the room. No one else was around him. No security guards, no shapeshifter. As she got up from her cot she noticed there was nothing between them. No door or glass. She figured it must be another force field. She wondered if these beings would make the same mistake twice. Last reached out to find the invisible barrier.

“You won’t get through it this time. That’s a level-10 forcefield,” Julian uttered as she pulled her hand back quickly.

“Why am I in here?” she asked, fully knowing what the answer would be.

“Why? For starters, you destroyed my sickbay, not to mention the people you assaulted that now require its services.”

“This is not what I wanted. That’s what I was trying to say before your _changeling_ struck me.”

“Changeling? Don’t you mean ‘god’?” He couldn’t help but notice the disdain in her voice. Whenever he spoke with Jem’Hadar in the past they always expressed reverence for the Founders and never disgust.

“He’s no god of mine,” she snapped. Her eyes darted around the space she was in. She couldn’t seem to get her eyes to focus. Her breathing became erratic, and she was scared of losing consciousness again. “You need to let me out of here. Now!”

“I don’t think that’s going to happen. We can’t have a repeat of what happened in sickbay. Why don’t you tell me what you came here to say, and then we can discuss letting you out,” Julian uttered as he swore he could see her start to perspire.

“I cannot be in this cell anymore. You must let me out and then and only then will I tell you what you need to know,” Last said with less anger and more desperation. Julian noticed this but was still bound by his orders to not let her out.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t.”

“You will! NOW!” she shrieked as she did earlier in sickbay. This burst startled the good doctor as he rose from his chair.

“…please,” she whimpered. This intrigued Julian because he had never seen a Jem’Hadar plead before. He also had never seen one of them display clear signs of claustrophobia.

“If you cooperate, I’ll see what I can do,” he quietly informed her as he left the room. Last watched him leave, and she instantly felt more alone than she had in all that time in her cell. Not because she felt a kinship with him but because she had no idea when he would be back to let her out. Once again, her destiny was in someone else’s hands.

Julian went through the doors as they opened for him. He heard the whoosh of them closing behind him as he saw Odo and Sisko looking into the monitors. There was a miniature version of the female Jem’Hadar on six screens from six different angles and she looked desperate in all of them – a forlorn expression of anxiety on her grey face, silver loose-fitting armor that clearly wasn’t made for her, tall black boots, and a grimy chain draped around her waist.

“I’m assuming you heard all that?” Julian said.

“Yes, we did. You don’t actually think we’re going to let her out of there do you?” Odo scoffed.

“It wasn’t my first idea, but I don’t know if we have another one. She won’t talk otherwise, plus I’ve never seen a Jem’Hadar with claustrophobia before. We are not dealing with your average super soldier here,” Bashir explained.

“You’ve got that right, doctor. This is not your average Jem’Hadar. That is precisely why she needs to be kept in there,” Sisko stated with finality.

“Captain, with all due respect, what is the point in keeping her in there at all if she isn’t going to speak to us? She came to deliver a message, and if she’s in there she won’t give it.”

Odo interjected, “Maybe she already gave her message in sickbay: ‘War is coming now here is a taste.’”

“She came here specifically to speak to me. I want to know why, and I think both of you do as well. She is in pain, and I cannot abide that as a doctor. I’m sure my nurse just startled her being that close. I won’t make that same mistake. Can we at least just let her out of the cell but lock the room?” Julian asked desperately. The doctor wondered to himself if he would have tried to get her out as quickly if she were a male Jem’Hadar or even if her eyes weren’t as striking.

“Alright, doctor, but I’m not just leaving you in there alone. Odo?” the captain turned to look at the security chief.

“I’ll stand right behind him, Captain. I’ll have my deputies be outside the door with their phasers drawn and a level-10 force field surrounding the room. After you,” Odo motioned to Julian to lead the way. The doctor obliged as he saw the deputies start to move into place. He saw the determination in their eyes and their guns already drawn. They wouldn’t make the same mistake as their predecessors. Julian walked back into the room and saw her standing with her back to him.

“We’re letting you out but only if you cooperate. Can you do that, or will I need to intervene again?” Odo taunted as he lowered the force field. She nodded and stepped out. Immediately she felt better. The room felt expansive and even smelled better. Her eyes could focus, and she noticed that the doctor was smiling.

“Feel better?” Julian asked.

“What do you mean?”

“I noticed that you have a hard time with enclosed spaces. Hopefully, this room is just a little bit better. What is your name?”

“Last.”

“Last … is that your rank?”

“No. It’s my name. I gave it to myself.” Odo scoffed loudly as she revealed that information. “I didn’t do it to please you,” she snapped.

“You don’t like me very much, do you?” Odo sneered.

“No. Should I?” She knew it was daring to speak like this to a changeling. If she did this where she was made, she would have been scrapped like the others regardless of her skill. But she had heard rumors of the defector, the shapeshifter who turned his back on his people. That’s something that she and Odo shared in common, but trust would have to come first before information.

“It’s just your predecessors usually see shapeshifters as gods,” Odo lectured.

“Does that disappoint you?” she sneered.

“I think you want it to,” Odo said. The tension in the room was becoming palatable. Julian, for some reason, did not consider the negatives of having a changeling and a Jem’Hadar in the same room. He only thought it would be a way to get more information from her, but clearly, this Jem’Hadar was different.

“Let’s just stay calm,” Julian pleaded, “I think we can all agree that this is an odd situation for us all. Last, you came here specifically for me. Let’s start with that. How do you know me? I’ve never heard of a female Jem’Hadar let alone met one,” the doctor was desperately trying to use a calm tone. Some of that was out of fear for his safety after seeing what she did to his nurse but also out of pity. As a medical professional he’d been trained to notice pain and track where it comes from. This Jem’Hadar is showing a lot of pain. However, she might need a counselor more than a doctor.

“No, we have never met. But you have met Goran’Agar. He is the one who helped me escape.”

“Escape from where?”

“Escape from the people who created me. I don’t know where it was exactly. I wasn’t in the best of shape when Goran’Agar rescued me. I believe it was on a space station, but much smaller than this one. There are several of these breeding stations throughout what you call the Gamma Quadrant. But mine was different. Mine was focused on research and experimentation. The others were just factories for my dog-like brothers. Weak and dependent,” she said with such disdain that it reminded Julian to ask about her addiction or lack thereof.

“I noticed that you don’t seem dependent on ketracel-white. Was this an anomaly like Goran’Agar’s?”

“No, but it wasn’t planned either. The Vorta and changelings had no interest in developing an independent Jem’Hadar, but it was an unforeseen side effect of my phasing ability. The enzyme that the white produces became superfluous when my DNA was altered for this . . . predisposition to spatial relocation,” she stated with pride.

“That’s a neat trick, by the way,” Julian admired.

“That trick is the only reason why I’m still alive. My original name was GH-1512. That’s 1,511 Jem’Hadar before me who had this ability and 1,509 of them died within hours of gestation.”

“That leaves two not including you. Are there two others like you out there?” Julian probed.

“I believe so. That’s why I’m here.”

“I thought you were here to tell us ‘war is coming’?” Odo questioned.

“No, that is payment,” she retorted.

“For?” Julian inquired.

“For you helping me find my sisters,” Last stated with immediate regret. She felt that she was giving away too much too fast. But what other choice did she have? Like it or not she was yoked to these people. She could escape again, but where would she go? Who better to help her than a Federation doctor who feels himself morally superior to the Founders and a Founders turncoat?

“Sisters?” Odo said with surprise, “You mean you’re not the only female? Why _are_ you female, by the way?”

“Why are you male?” Last cracked. “You can shift into anything and yet you chose a humanoid male. Why?” Odo stood silently with his arms crossed.

Julian interrupted, “I think what Odo means is, the Dominion usually only makes male Jem’Hadar and told us that’s all they do. What makes you the exception to the rule, if I may be so bold?”

“Of those 1,509 that died, all were male. They wasted all those lives before our scientists even considered switching the sex, just to see, just to imagine what the difference would be. One day they altered the chromosomes, and it worked. She lasted much longer than hours, so they made another, and then me,” Last practically whispered that final part.

“Where does Goran’Agar come into all of this, and where is he now?” Julian asked.

“Goran’Agar survived his men where you last saw him. I don’t know the whole story, but he was able to get off world. He then dedicated himself to find others like him – free of the white. It was difficult for him to find others without being discovered. That might be why he never succeeded until he heard of me. He followed every rumor and passing phrase that hinted at a Jem’Hadar free of the white. When he found my complex and beat down the door, he had no idea that a woman would be on the other side.”

 

Goran’Agar was kind to Last, a trait not well known amongst other Jem’Hadar. When he heard rumor that there was a secret complex developing a new breed of Jem’Hadar but they were free of the white, he didn’t believe it. But it was the best lead he had in months, and he couldn’t pass it up. Sector by sector he searched with his small vessel, but he didn’t mind. He was Jem’Hadar. He almost left the Garathy system when he picked up a faint signal. It was hiding deep in the rings of a nearby gas giant. Goran’Agar got as close as he possibly could without being detected. It was definitely a Jem’Hadar breeding facility but nothing like he had ever seen. A rotating diamond structure with five asymmetrical pylons jutting out in all directions. It was silver but basking in the gold light emanating from the gas giant below making it incredibly difficult to spot. According to rumor, this station has been isolated from the rest of the Dominion for quite sometime. That meant that there was a strong chance his security codes would still be active. He knew that if he attempted this, no matter if he succeeded or failed, the Dominion would be aware of his existence, so this had to be worth it.

He tapped his console and with just a few gestures his vessel was on its way toward the station. As he got closer, he entered his security code to pass through the sensor net.

48923H2223POJ89-DELTA….DENIED

The negative notification practically screamed at him from his console. He entered it again.

48923H2223POJ89-DELTA….DENIED

Whenever a code was entered a third time unsuccessfully, the communicating vessel would be targeted and shot out of space.  He could either try to run or risk having his ship destroyed by giving the wrong code again. Maybe the Dominion swapped out the codes more recently than he expected or maybe it was something else. If this station is as old as he thought, maybe the minimum distance for code entry was much closer. Goran’Agar hit the boosters, held his breath, and tried one more time.

48923H2223POJ89-DELTA….ACCEPTED

The positive-sounding ding brought on a sigh of relief. If Goran’Agar had sweat glands, they surely would have been active. He rotated his vessel 180 degrees to back into the docking port. Goran’Agar would need a hasty escape if this was to be successful, and every second counted. The connection of ship and station was firm but quiet. As he walked over to the port, he entered in a few commands, and he could hear the hiss of air being released into the vacuum. It finished with a final squeak and then he opened the door. He immediately activated his camouflage and shimmered out of existence, at least to the naked eye. This would only be good for sneaking around for short periods, but he’d have to come back to the visible spectrum in order to attack. Hopefully, he wouldn’t have to kill any of his brothers. They were only doing their duty, but his purpose was much higher than theirs. He would not hesitate if a decision needed to be made. That’s why he was always First of whatever group he was in. He did not hesitate and showed no mercy in the face of his enemies. Goran’Agar witnessed three Vorta scientists walk by him, completely oblivious to his presence. They were snapping off their red gloves and reading from their PADDs, clearly coming from some sort of surgery or activity. He walked in the direction they were coming from. Every hallway was bare with very few consoles. This was incredibly foreign to him. Most Jem’Hadar stations had access ports every five meters so that in the event of attack or catastrophe, a soldier would not have to go far to enter in commands. He was having a hard time finding his way.

There were no barracks for the newborn Jem’Hadar. This was a massive facility but there were no visible barracks. This station could house thousands of Jem’Hadar, but where were they? So far he had only noticed a few Vorta scientists and a few Jem’Hadar guards. He turned a corner and saw a long hallway. This was different than the constant winding and short corridors that he encountered previously. There were two guards at a door at the end of what seemed more like a tunnel than a hallway. This had to be where they were housing the experimental specimens, he thought. There was no way around it though; he would have to kill the guards. The Jem’Hadar always said the same thing before they went into battle, “As of this moment, we are all dead. We go into battle to reclaim our lives. This we do gladly, for we are Jem'Hadar. Remember: victory is life." Goran’Agar knew he wasn’t killing them; he was only removing their victory from the equation.

He started to walk towards them. The walk turned into a jog. The jog turned into a full on sprint. His footfalls were so loud that the guards already knew something was coming. They armed their rifles but it was already too late. Goran’Agar shimmered back into the spectrum and pulled out his kar’tarkin blade and in one swift motion slit the guard on the right’s throat. Blood sprayed on the wall opposite him and momentarily blinded the other Jem’Hadar soldier. This was his only chance, and he did not hesitate. He buried his blade into the surviving guard's chest, and his opponent fell to the ground without a scream. No screams. No cries. Just soldiers doing their duty.

The corridor lit up bright purple. The walls themselves became illuminated and pulsed with the newly introduced color. The stark contrast of such a vibrant color against a bland metallic grey was disarming at first because of how unexpected it was. The soldiers must have had a “dead man’s switch”. As soon as the heart of a guard stops beating, it sets off an alarm. This wasn’t standard so whatever was behind this door must be incredibly important to the Dominion or something they desperately wanted to keep secret. He instinctively shrouded himself again and began work on the door. None of his codes were working. He would have tried using the dead soldier’s security cards, but if they had a dead man’s switch then that means their clearance was erased as soon as death occurred. He then did all that he had left to him; he hit it. He punched the door as hard as he could. Then he punched it harder. He kept punching until the metal of the door started to buckle. He kept punching until several bones broke and he was numb from pain. Goran’Agar looked at his work and realized he was almost there and knew that more soldiers would be coming. He kicked the door with more force than he had ever struck an enemy. The door flew in the direction he kicked so hard that he started to shimmer back to visibility. He looked down and saw a pathetic creature bolted to the floor. It was not what he expected. He was enraged immediately at the sight of her. Her. He couldn’t believe it was a she. That’s not why he was angry. He was furious at how a Jem’Hadar soldier was being treated, no matter the sex. He could immediately tell that she was weak. He saw dinner plates, so she must need food. He made a note of that for later . . . if there would be a later. He had to hurry. Goran’Agar pulled his blade out of the dead man’s chest and entered the room. He ripped the grimy chain she was attached to from the floor and scooped her up in his arms. Most of the chain was still attached to her, but he figured he could deal with that later.

He rushed down the hall with the female in his arms. The warrior constantly changed direction and doubled back to avoid detection. This labyrinth of a station was not going to be circumvented by speed but by cunning. He couldn’t fight with a woman in his arms so he had to avoid patrols as much as possible. The walls kept getting brighter and brighter. The alarms were illuminating his path and making it more difficult to hide in the shadows. Goran’Agar recognized where he was and turned the corner to find the path to his ship blocked by a solitary guard. They were only a few meters apart from each other. The guard raised his rifle to fire. There’s no way he could set the female down in time and charge him. He thought this was it. He thought that he had failed himself, this female whose name he didn’t even know, and all his other siblings free of the white who were waiting to be truly free. He didn’t close his eyes. At that exact moment, his arms started to get lighter, and he didn’t know why. He looked down and saw the female disappearing, almost dissolving. The guard stopped his attack and saw the vapor trail come from Goran’Agar’s arms and enter his own chest. The guard dropped with a heavy clunk against the bulkhead. There was the female Jem’Hadar standing behind the fallen soldier with his heart in her hands, and she was staring at it. She looked up at Goran’Agar and said, “I think this is my favorite color so far.”

 

“That’s how he saved me,” Last said.

“Sounds like you saved him,” Julian retorted.

“If only I had another opportunity,” she added. For the first time, Julian noticed that she looked genuinely sad instead of angry or anxious. This was a loss for her.

“I was wondering if you were going to talk about why Goran’Agar wasn’t here.”

“We made it to his ship and got out of that sector. We hid for a month on a moon in the neighboring system. There was something in the atmosphere that obscured our signal. There he nursed me back to health, trained me in whatever ways he could, and even tried food for the first time. He didn’t like it,” the sadness melted away for a moment and was replaced by a quiet laugh, but soon the sadness returned. “We got sloppy one day and didn’t recharge our equipment in time. Our signature was unmasked, and they found us. I got away, but he didn’t. That’s all you need to know. Before he died he told me to find you, Doctor Julian Bashir, and said you were a good man and that you would help me if you could.”

“How can we help?” Julian asked.

“More importantly, why should we help? It’s a touching story, but I don’t see how it concerns us,” Odo jabbed.

“It concerns you because someday soon the Dominion will invade the Alpha Quadrant, and you will be left weeping.”

“We’ve known of their plans for sometime now. This is nothing new,” Odo proclaimed.

“Did you know about me? Did you factor me into their plans? The longer they have my sisters the more chances they have to figure out a way to mass produce us. Imagine legions of us coming through the wormhole. You will not win and you will not survive . . . me,” she said with warning.

The door behind Odo and Julian opened, and Captain Benjamin Lafayette Sisko walked in with determination, purpose, and two security guards on either side of him. He stopped right in front of her and began to speak.

“What do you want?” he asked with a calm yet commanding tone.

“There’s a computer core on my ship that my companion stole from the Dominion. It’s encrypted, and I can’t access it. It contains the locations of where they separated and took my sisters. I’m assuming it has a wealth of knowledge that could be useful to you.”

“You assume?” Odo said as he rolled his eyes. Last shot him a glance that would have frightened lesser men. The captain didn’t take his eyes off of hers.

“Listen here and listen good. You have been incredibly lucky thus far, but do not bank on it continuing. You’re lucky Goran’Agar told you about Doctor Bashir because if it wasn’t for him you would still be in your cell.” She winced. “You’re lucky I’m in a forgiving mood after what you’ve done to my men and my sickbay. I want that core, and you want your sisters. I will get my chief of operations to work on that encryption, and you will help. If at any point I think you are trying to alert your people as to where you are, or if at any point I see you start to _phase_ I will jettison you out into space. Is that clear?” Benjamin growled as he got louder and louder towards the end.

“Yes. Who is your chief of operations?”

“Chief Miles O’Brien.”

Last shot a look at Julian, “Isn’t he the one who destroyed your research that would have helped Goran’Agar and the Jem’Hadar when you crash landed?”

“Sadly, yes, but . . .” Julian said reluctantly as Last interrupted him.

“Then I refuse to work with him,” Last uttered and stared down Sisko. The captain stared back, stepped closer, and replied slowly.

“Too bad.”

 

One of the cog-shaped doors of the Promenade rolled away to reveal Chief O’Brien standing there with an engineering kit in his hand. Staring at him was Julian, Last, and two security guards standing behind them. O’Brien was briefed by Julian and Sisko prior to this meeting, so he was well aware of the tension that was waiting for him. Last couldn’t believe her eyes when she saw him. This was not the type of man she was expecting to meet. After hearing stories from her companion about his encounter with the humans, she didn’t expect the man who destroyed the ketracel-white research to have kind eyes and soft features. Regardless of what he looked like, Last was not happy about this process. She felt like she could burst at any moment. Whether it was from anger or nerves over completing her mission, she didn’t know. Either way, she did not like the arrangement into which she was forced. She just kept saying to herself, “What choice do I have?”

“All I want to do is help, so let’s get to work and figure this out,” O’Brien said as he motioned to the Upper Pylon where Last’s ship was docked. The five of them all gathered on the lift, and not a word was said the entire ride up to the top of the pylon. Julian was hoping that the two of them could work together because both Last and Miles were needed to complete this mission. But a rifle in the back is a poor motivator when you can phase through it.

They made it to the top, and the door slid open with a whisper. They entered as the guards instructed Last to go first. Julian assumed this was to make sure no one was waiting for them inside the ship. They all made their way in, and the door closed behind them with the same faint sound. Last’s ship was small with a curved bulkhead where the pilot’s seat was. Dual panels on the left and right with one center console jutted out to cover the pilot’s legs. Behind the conn was a cot and a makeshift kitchen that clearly was not a part of the original design. Julian assumed that was the tradeoff for phasing. Most Jem’Hadar didn’t have to eat or sleep. For one person, this would be enough space, but not five.

“The core is in the back and to the right. He had to integrate it into the ship’s own computer core so that it wouldn’t shut down and erase. Once you decrypt it, you should have no problem transferring the information over to your systems,” she promised.

“Ok, after you,” Miles said as he waited for her to move.

Last hesitated, “I think you’ll do fine. I can wait out here if you have any questions.”

“I need you in there with me. I know it’s cramped, but it will take twice as long to decrypt because I don’t know the system as well as you. You’ll need to guide me. If you don’t, the computer will have that much more of a chance of figuring out what we’re doing and shut down,” the chief explained.

“I know this is hard. I could tell right away you weren’t okay with confinement or small spaces. But don’t worry. The chief will be with you, and I will be right out here. You’re not alone,” Julian said without cheek, without pretense, and with complete sincerity. “Guards, can you please wait by the door?” he asked. The guards looked at each other and didn’t move. “That’s an order,” Julian added. He was so rarely able to say that.

“We can do it together. If you wish. It’s up to you,” Miles proposed.

“For my sisters,” Last declared.

Miles opened his toolkit and had to slide on his back to get to the exposed circuitry of the computer core. He shimmied his shoulders back and forth in order to move the few inches needed to reach. Last moved with him and they had to be shoulder to shoulder. There was just enough room for two people underneath, if that.

“Hand me the diagnostic coupler,” he asked, and she obliged. “Can I reroute the secondary bypass in order to gain access to the redundant memory?” he moved his device closer.

“No! Don’t do that. If you do, the memory will seize. Try going through the primary memory. It’s not as safeguarded because most thieves go for the backdoors first,” she said as fast as she could.

“That’s why you’re here,” Chief O’Brien reiterated. The chief looked over and could tell that Last was visibly shaken. She couldn’t focus and started breathing too heavily. “Hey, how uh, how are you doing over there?”

“I don’t know if I can stay. I need to leave,” Last rushed her words with a panic and she started to maneuver out.

“Listen, you can’t go now. I’ve already started. If I stop now, we will never be able to get back in. It’s going to be fine. I’m here with you.”

“I spent years in a dark room with nothing but the occasional inspection to keep me company. You have no idea what that’s like.”

“Actually, you’re talking to the one person on the station who might understand what you’re going through,” Chief O’Brien revealed. He kept working.

“What do you mean?”

“I spent 20 years in a jail cell for a crime I didn’t commit. Some of the time I was with someone, and some of the time I wasn’t. That’s all you need to know. My freedom was stripped away, and they tried to strip me of my humanity as well. A few times, they succeeded. I was taken from my wife and my little girl for 20 agonizing years. It turns out it was just a few hours,”

“I don’t understand.”

“Memory implants. It wasn’t real. It was all in my head. But that didn’t make the memories any less painful. When I got out, I was a different person. I hallucinated, I assaulted people I cared about, I couldn’t do my job, and I almost ended it all. Until a friend stopped me,” O’Brien admitted as he tried to see if Julian was listening. “If I would have given up, if I would have . . . killed myself, I would have let my captors win.”

“So, you what, just forgot about it?”

“Oh, no. It’s with me every day. Hand me that stembolt. You can’t forget tragedy nor should you really. It’s a part of who you are whether we like it or not.”

“What helped you?” she said as she handed him the stembolt.

“I can’t believe I’m going to admit this, but talking. Talking helped. Did you ever talk with Goran’Agar about this?”

“That’s between me and him,” she said sharply.

“I apologize, I didn’t mean to intrude,” he went back to work. A few silent moments passed between them.

“. . . it did help though,” she disclosed. Miles noticed that she stopped breathing so heavily.

“You know, you don’t have to leave the station as soon as we’re done here. You can stay for a while . . ..” A loud noise halted their conversation. Miles triggered an alarm and the noise was filling the small space they were in. “Ok, I damaged the memory buffer.” A flash of rotating symbols appeared. “What is that?” O’Brien pointed.

“That’s new . . . that looks like a countdown. Something like 75 seconds.”

“A countdown to what?” O’Brien asked.

“I don’t know, most likely to when the core will erase itself. Can you stop it?”

60 seconds. The chief took a quick scan of the core with his tricorder. He noticed that the power supply was becoming increasingly unstable as time counted down.

“Did Goran’Agar ever mention how the core would erase itself?” O’Brien questioned. She replied with a simple headshake. “My guess is that it explodes. Pretty effective if you ask me.”

“You have to fix it!” Last screamed.

“No, we have to go. Julian get out of here!”

“What?” Julian responded ignorant to what was going on because he couldn’t hear over the alarm.

“We need to get this done. I won’t get another chance!”  Last argued.

45 seconds. O’Brien looked over to her and could tell that she was desperate. He tapped his combadge.

“O’Brien to Ops. Eject Last’s ship from the pylon and tractor it out as far as you can,” he yelled loud enough for his combadge to register his vocal patterns.

“What the hell is going on up there?” Sisko roared.

“Please, sir, just do it and keep a transporter lock on us and wait for my signal.” Miles knew that a lock would be tricky with this type of interference. “Julian, you in or out?”

“What?!” Julian still couldn’t hear.

“I guess he’s in,” O’Brien muttered. He heard a loud clang followed by a soft thud as he felt the release of the docking clamps.

30 seconds.

“There is still an auxiliary bypass. I need you to access it,” He ordered to Last.

“Why me?” she said as she started to gulp the air around her.

“I can’t reach over you, and we’re running out of time. We only have a few seconds before this core explodes and we all die,” Miles yelled. Last stared at the console in front of her breathing so hard she was fogging the instruments. “Just take one singular moment, and breathe normally. Match mine. Listen, LISTEN! In the through the nose and out through the mouth.”

20 seconds.

“In through the nose and out through the mouth,” Last repeated and enacted as she continued to work. She thought of her sisters. She wanted to see them again. She would do anything to see them again. Knowing they were in a space like the one she was in right that second gave her laser focus. She would not have them wait another moment alone in the dark. She grabbed the tool from Miles, accessed the bypass, and tapped a few critical commands on the console.

5 seconds. The alarm stopped. They both breathed a sigh of relief simultaneously.

“I think your sisters would be proud,” O’Brien concluded. Last gave him a smile, something for which she had rarely had occasion. Julian popped his head in.

“What did I miss?”

 

A few days later, after the data download was complete, Julian, Miles, and Last were standing outside her ship in the Upper Pylon docking bay.

“Are you sure we can’t get you to stay a couple more days?” Julian asked.

“I still need to teach you how to do an eseeka. It helped me get through some tough times,” O’Brien asserted.

“No, but thank you. I need to get going. I made a promise to myself that I wouldn’t make my sisters wait a moment longer. Now that I know where they are, it’s only a matter of time until I get them out.”

“Are you sure you should go in alone?” Julian pondered out loud.

“I won’t be for long,” Last confidently quipped before turning around and entering her ship. She turned around one last time and waved before the doors closed. The locks made a thunderous release that echoed throughout the chamber.

“Do you think we’ll ever find out if she pulled it off?” Miles asked.

“Well, if we never see her kind again, that’s probably our answer.”


End file.
